


Ride Or Die

by Lauren Hunter (Lovebirdie)



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Car Racing, Alternate Universe - Cyberpunk, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Future, BAMF Charles, Charles-centric, Cyberpunk, Erik Has Feelings, Erik Logic Is The Best Logic, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by Music, M/M, Mutant Husbands, Mutant Registration, Mutant Rights, Plot Twists, Protective Erik, Robin Hood References, Street Racing, and a hella lot of synth & retro music, and a mechanic, charles is a reckless gay, erik is a pining gay, inspired by 80s synthwave aesthetic, nothing too dramatic, rating will go up if they frickle frackle, the holy trinity amen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-09-22 05:09:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17053748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovebirdie/pseuds/Lauren%20Hunter
Summary: Set in a dystopian, futuristic New York, Charles Xavier spends the nights roaming the city as the mysterious 'X' - a fearless renegade, who took it upon himself to free captured mutants and spread government secrets to garner awareness for their cause. Supporting him are Hank, a genius inventor and best friend to him, Raven, his sister who's struggling with her mutant identity, and Erik, a caring yet secretive mechanic who not only always fixes Charles's car but also his heart whenever he visits.





	1. Life Off The Grid

**Author's Note:**

> This work is heavily inspired by 80s retrowave/synthwave/darkwave aesthetics. Notice the sprinkles of Initial D, VA-11 Hall-A and Mirror's Edge. Maybe I'll include some experimental edits of my own photography for atmosphere building.  
> Do note that my first language is German - meaning you get an authentic Erik who can woo Charles in German, and slight grammatical mistakes in English.  
> Apologies if Charles is OOC - I'd rather have him as a BAMF than the cute little helpless twink some in the fandom make him out to be (don't get me wrong, I LOVE my healthy dose of twink!Charles, but yeah). Oh, and Erik is not as bitter as a burned marshmallow in this. They live in 'Neo York', a dystopian, futuristic version of New York, the metropolis of technology. But I'll leave the rest for your reading.
> 
> I'll try to update as soon as I finish a new chapter! I have the storyboard ready, it just needs to be written.
> 
> Here's the Spotify playlist for this fic - each chapter will have one or two or more song recommendations, so keep Spotify open while reading! I'd appreciate if you gave it a look, since I took quite some time to build an atmosphere with the music.
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/user/sweetie_sam/playlist/48MIlDqdT4Jz07QsTyCcjJ?si=mLMkysmMTDi9R4ldjcz01A

* * *

[ _(Vogel - Night City)_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OsGWurRzaEk)

  
  
“This could be bad, Charles,” sighed Hank as he examined his medical chart. “You’re in no condition to drive tonight. You might as well have gotten a concussion before, I’m not too sure.”  
  
“It’s not as if I’m running a marathon. Just a bit of shifting gears, flooring the gas pedal, the usual. Nothing that could kill me.”  
  
Charles played a bit with a dice that was lying around on his friend’s office desk. He carelessly threw it into the air and caught it with surprising precision. An act that made him seem relaxed to the outside, but Hank knew better. His friend always did that when he wanted to appear collected. Charles was nervous about tonight too. But it wasn’t like they could just cancel their plans.  
  
It wasn’t like X could cancel just because some mutantphobic ass had beaten Charles Xavier up.  
  
‘X’ never cancelled a race. Especially not a challenge. ‘X’ was just like that; a mysterious driver who always showed up to the challenge and almost always triumphed over his reckless opponents who dared challenge him. In these dark times, he was hyped up as a beacon of hope for mutantkind.  
  
It hadn’t always been that terrible for them. When the technical revolution really got going a few decades ago, people had more possibilities than ever. History databases called it the ‘Neo Golden Age’ - a short timeframe, in which endless possibilities opened up without much governmental limitation. Wood got replaced with steel, delivery traffic ran on streets above the city, buildings were made more compact and built higher and higher. Businesses were thriving and with the invention of easy holographic projection, advertising was as effective as never before.  
  
But with all these liberties, the gap between the lower and upper class grew wider and wider. Low-paying jobs got staffed by digital workforce and robots. Poverty ruled the streets. The crime rate went up drastically. Soon, police forces got replaced by highly capable robots roaming the streets, sowing distrust and unrest among the populace.  
  
And then there was the problem of mutants not being able to control their powers properly.  
  
At first they would forbid them from entering specific places. That already lead to chaos and a bigger gap amongst mutants and humans. When that didn’t stop the incidents, they locked the dangerous ones away, adding fuel to the fire.  
  
Then came the sentinels.  
  
Highly advanced mutant-hunting machines, designed to kill so called ‘mutant-terrorists’ on sight. The ones that were only suspicious were tailed, captured and brought to ‘correction facilities’ - Charles had long since learned that there was a whole network of mutant traders behind the scenes, eager to pass them on to experimentation camps.  
  
Everyone knew. No one dared to speak up. You didn’t even need to say a word to let the government know you were a threat. If your mutation looked flashy enough, that alone was sufficient to send you away.  
  
Charles was one of the lucky ones without visible mutations. Nevertheless, he knew to stay away from malls and certain restaurants, unless he wanted to hear the all-familiar jingle of the mutant detector integrated into almost every doorframe nowadays. He knew better than to openly show himself. He felt lucky everyday that he was simply registered in their database and not forced to wear a collar or any other kind of identification to be recognised when he went outside. Or even worse - a telepathy blocker like the ones doctors forced on children young enough to not understand what they were taking from them.  
  
He counted himself blessed. Telepathic yet hidden. Mutated yet ordinary-looking. Abnormal yet normal to the public eye. He knew he had to use his privilege for the greater good.  
  
So seeing all the rage against his kind and remembering that he was still one of them, it had flipped a switch in him. Simply teaching mutant children was not enough to make a difference.  
  
So he created his avatar. X was a fearless renegade, not afraid to voice his opinion and stand up for those who couldn’t do it themselves. At first it had merely been a digital avatar, hidden behind countless security measures by yours truly, Hank. He had roamed online forums and gave out government secrets to show the world what was truly happening behind the scenes.  
  
It wasn’t until X got public attention that Charles realised his potential. Working with Hank, he had all the resources and ideas to strive for bigger goals. Technologies that were previously meant for only the higher-ups. Some that only he was capable of using - telepathy was a heavenly gift for him.  
  
The more attention he got, the greater the danger became. By now, the bounty on X was ridiculously high.  
  
In the outskirts of town, he and Hank built a bunker, completely off the grid thanks to surveillance blockers based on telepathy and telekinesis. There was just the problem of going out in public to espial the information needed to shock the masses - covering his face up every time wasn’t enough, not with modern scans that could recognise him in their database just by the way he moved.  
  
Soon enough, Hank invented ‘Cerebro’ for him - a simple headpiece that was actually a device connected to Charles’s brain and thus his telepathy. With its help, Charles was able to use his powers to disguise himself with a hologram taking form so that no one could make out his identity, not even highly advanced face and body scanners. Not even sentinels.  
  
Upon its completion, Charles was overcome with possibilities and began to exploit that advantage to the brink.  
  
In a cloak-and-dagger operation he freed countless mutants from a secret experimentation facility, the first of many whom would follow.  
  
He lived for the thrill of it. As much as it warmed his core to see the thankfulness in the rescued people’s eyes, he took a guilty pleasure in the adrenalin coursing through his veins whenever he ventured into dangerous territory.  
  
Maybe that was why he had taken up auto racing. At first it was only a challenge; some high-profile mutants with vastly different attitudes on morality had threatened to hack Cerebro should he chicken out of the challenge of an illegal car race. Charles wasn’t too concerned about another person getting past his encryption and into his head; he was of omega level after all and could kill them with just a thought. He had downplayed his abilities at registration and was thought as a mere empath, so no one would expect Charles Xavier behind X.  
  
No, it was X’s reputation that would suffer from a declination, and Charles wasn’t going to have that.  
  
He has always had a knack for driving. Racing was no different and his enhanced brain capacity provided him with enough security to master high speeds. Hank took it upon himself to develop upgrades for his car that’d guarantee him a simple way out should things escalate.  
  
The races were always held on the delivery traffic streets. Charles liked to be early just to enjoy the city lights below him. At night, Neo York was a lighting technician’s wet dream. Neon yellow, pink, purple and dark blue danced around skyscrapers and the steady flow of the transport on the skylines gave a nice rhythm. Charles felt finite yet at the same time above it all. What if one day they could be more than just specs of light in this urban pandemonium? For now, Charles could only stick to creating commotions around the topics needed.  
  
X won race after race and soon it had become a commodity for the morally ambiguous of mutantkind to challenge him. Charles pitied them. He knew this was their way of trying to prove their worth in a world that was getting more and more engineered to exile them.  
  
“Tune my dear up a notch and I’ll practically fly over their heads tonight. This is just the Brotherhood this time. I can handle guys twice their size with half the ego.” Charles huffed triumphantly. He flipped the dice up again. Hank watched him suspiciously, following the dice’s movements with his head. It cut through the air again and again. But just as Charles was about to catch it once more, he miscalculated and with a clank, the cube landed on the steel ground.  
  
Charles cursed and picked it up, but cracked a smile nonetheless. “See? Six spots. My lucky day.”  
  
Hank had none of it. “Charles, it won’t hurt you to call it quits for one day. You’re not normally this reckless. I won’t touch your car today.”  
  
“It would hurt him. X.” Charles chuckled bitterly. “Besides, I had it coming today. This is why I normally don’t open my mouth regarding mutant issues.”  
  
“What made the difference today?”  
  
Charles kept quiet and looked down.  
  
Seconds passed and the atmosphere grew more and more heavy. Hank would have opened a window to not feel so claustrophobic if the room had any. They were in their underground lair, completely soundproof, just what they needed with what they were discussing.  
  
Finally Charles looked up again, an unreadable expression on his face. He put the dice on the table behind him. “One of my students, Scott, you remember him? Alex’s brother? He manifested today. During recess. He burned down the bathroom. They want to send him away in the next days, gosh, Hank, I-“ his voice cracked and he quickly averted his eyes again, clearly trying to keep collected. “I just had to speak up. Say something. Anything.”  
  
Hank swallowed. He wasn’t good with words. Especially when it came to Charles. The professor was the driving force behind all of this; Hank just made sure to give him the resources needed. Sometimes that included a shoulder to rest on. Of all the things, he still wasn’t sure how to provide him with that.  
  
He scrambled for words, but before he could form his thoughts into sentences, Charles continued to talk with newfound stability in his voice.  
  
“Stryker waited for me in the parking lot. Says I should know better than to speak for the ‘fucking muties'. That we were all just a bunch of monsters. It’s okay, Hank, this isn’t new. Save your pity for the Brotherhood when I’m done with them today.”  
  
And there was his cheeky, optimistic self again. Hank could have studied the selflessness of this man for hours and still not get a clue what drove him to get up in the morning only to live a life full of anxiety and despair. He thought about his feet. Easy enough to hide. Easier to inject something and get rid of them for a few hours. He liked to pretend he wasn’t one of them, while Charles felt guilty for not being enough of them. Sometimes it embarrassed him how much he envied Charles’s confidence.  
  
A threat to the government’s surveillance plan, they called X. The humans hated him. The mutants worshipped him. To them, he was a hero who held up the last bastion of hope in this city of fear. Some even worshipped him in secret. Called him their only ray of hope. ‘The saviour’. And Charles Xavier had none of that fame and instead got spit on by both humans and mutants.  
  
“Just be careful,” Hank murmured, embarrassed about their differences. He busied himself with office work and spare parts, hoping Charles would notice.  
  
His friend watched him some more, then got the clue and started packing up. “Say, do I have to keep all these band-aids on?”  
  
“Unless I explicitly tell you that it’s safe to take them off, yes.”  
  
“Bollocks.”  
  
Hank watched as Charles left the vault in a haste. He knew he would rip his bandages off as soon as possible and steal Raven’s makeup to appear fine, but who was he to argue the other man?  
  
This was just in Charles nature; smiling and assuring the people around him that it’s fine, that they don’t need to worry, that they should wait for the bright things in life.  
  
Hank wondered how much of a difference such a man could really make in the end. He had long since given up hope to lead a normal life. But a little bit of peace and quiet from time to time would be nice. If it would take a riot to get there, he was willing to do his part for the greater good.

 

* * *

_[(Garoad - Final Result)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b6KccAO0sMQ) _

  
  
A bang, a crash, a few pitiful beeps, and Charles knew he had to get the car to safety in the next few minutes or he would be toast.  
  
Of course the Brotherhood would resort to dirty tricks. Of course they wouldn’t try to hack Cerebro, but the computer of his digital car. Of fucking course.  
  
Never before had this happened. As self-absorbed as the Brotherhood was, they were a civilised folk, showing respect to their opponents and resorting to fair play. This was a first.  
  
He could see the heat indicator going up steadily and could almost feel his car overheating. Not much longer and the program would either crash or catch real fire. Both would mean his sure death.  
  
The engine roared louder than usually. The indicator was going up. Charles could feel himself breaking into cold sweat. Going up. Not much longer until it hit the temperature limit. Up. Up. And up.  
  
Charles tried to ignore the fright trying to take control of him and concentrated on the road before him. It was late at night and the violet contours of the road and blinding white streetlights were the only indicator towards where he was going.  
  
The only way to get out unharmed was by stopping the car in a safe spot, a parking bay perhaps. He didn’t anticipate today’s member of the brotherhood - Riptide, was it? - gleefully rubbing his hands together in victory, but his safety came first. He cursed his luck. Hank had been right. He had been too careless. Who knows what could have happened with an even more capable opponent?  
  
But right now he couldn’t waste time lamenting about his demise. Recognising the road ahead, a plan suddenly sparked in his mind.  
  
Riptide was still far behind him, he wouldn’t notice when X took a little detour and disappeared off the radar.  
  
If he used his boosters, turned off the motor at the right time and used the momentum to pass the final meters, he could make it in one piece. Or two. As long as he was alive, he could take that loss.  
  
Just a little jump was in order. The thrill of the anticipation sent newfound confidence through him and he pressed down on the gas pedal.  
  
He grinned as he thought about a certain man’s reaction when he would tell him what stunt he performed today.  
  
With that thought, he activated his emergency boosters and swerved off the cliff.

 

* * *

_[(Mitch Murder - Breeze)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6KF4nfrYpuU) _

  
  
“You did _what_?!” Erik nearly screamed at him. Charles shushed him with a motion of his hands and rolled his eyes, but the glare in the taller man’s eyes stayed.  
  
“Erik, my friend, I appreciate your concern, but I’d rather get this over with quickly. I’ve got classes in the morning.”  
  
The mechanic only huffed in response. He wiped his hands on his flannel shirt, pushed back his short auburn locks and stood up to make his way through the old-fashioned workshop to get to his visitor.  
  
“Let me get this straight, Charles. You barge into my garage outside work hours, your car hotter than a furnace, tell me how you drove off the Southern Cliffs just to get here faster, and expect me to just merrily jump to work? Your money won’t buy my compliance this time.”  
  
Erik glared daggers through him. Charles took the smallest moment to marvel at him. A man with such sharp features and an ice cold glare, yet with so much care in his eyes - Erik was dangerously attractive on the inside just as the outside. How he came to live in the industrial area all by himself, running a nameless repair shop, was beyond his comprehension.  
  
He loved staying at Erik’s. The German always had an open door and ear for Charles, had tasty beer in his fridge (not a commodity these days!) and there was always some good retro music playing in his old stereo.  
  
Not to mention that he had developed a particular liking to the owner himself.  
  
“Maybe I don’t want to use money to pay you this time?” Charles cocked his head and gave him a flirty smirk, hoping it got the message across.  
  
Erik just sighed, not buying it for real. Charles could have punched a wall in frustration. It was always like that. He’d give signals and Erik took it just as the way he was.  
  
“Charles, look, as much as I usually enjoy your cooking, I’m quite busy this week. Maybe another time.”  
  
“Who says I-“ Charles interrupted himself before he could make it worse and sighed too. “Okay, so I got sabotaged in tonight’s race. Will you fix my dear now?”  
  
“Sabotaged? Who would have direct access to your car?”  
  
“No one. They hacked it. I was careless.”  
  
“Who’s they?”  
  
“The Brotherhood. Riptide or whatever his fancy name is. Although I don’t think that he was the only one in the car.”  
  
Charles knew one thing. As much as he trusted Erik with the details of his illegal activities, the man had a soft spot for the Brotherhood. Erik’s ideals were identical to theirs, with the difference that Erik had enough brain to not directly challenge authorities or other superior mutants such as X. Quite the contrary; he supported Charles in any way possible: Car services, utmost secrecy about his avatar and occasionally a soft and appreciating look out of steel blue eyes and the invitation to spend time together. And who was Charles to say no to that?  
  
But just like he had predicted, Erik grew wary at the mentioning of the Brotherhood. “Can’t be,” he huffed. “From what I know, they would never resort to such dirty tactics.”  
  
“Then take a look yourself,” Charles replied and motioned to the vehicle in the driveway. By now, it was his regular, unspectacular black car. Whenever he raced, he put a hologram over it to make it appear like a fancy red sports car. It wouldn't do his clean slate well to get his little speedster on the news.  
  
“I can feel the malfunctions from miles away. Say, does telepathy work in the same way? You hurt when you notice the absence of intelligence?” A light attempt at changing the topic.  
  
A smile hovered around Charles’s lips. “That’s what I feel every time a member of the Brotherhood comes close.”  
  
Erik’s smile turned bitter. Nevertheless, he passed Charles and began inspecting the car. Various tools floated to his side and Charles watched in awe at this display of power.  
  
“While I’m working, you might as well tell me why you bother to keep up the hologram today. I know how you look like. Unless you saying you didn’t get hurt was a lie?”  
  
Charles fidgeted. “Kept it on for the way. I wouldn't want anyone to recognise me.”  
  
“Yeah, but we’re inside now. You can be yourself. After all you transformed the car back too.” Erik shot him a look over his shoulder right before he opened the hood. “As much as the headpiece suits you, I’d rather have the real Charles than some guy with a black mask over his face and an embarrassingly skintight wetsuit. The yellow-black is atrocious, Charles. You look like a bee’s wet dream.”  
  
“I’ll have you know, it’s not a wetsuit, but a flightsuit for streamlining-“  
  
“Practically the same. X looks ridiculous and the people would know if they weren’t so fixated on how a superhero should look like.”  
  
“My, Erik, what flattery. But I suppose you did call me a superhero, so I can forgive you.”  
  
Erik smiled, let his tools work for him and turned around to face Charles. “All jokes aside, you’re the closest thing this city has to one.”  
  
“Hardly. I just have the resources.”  
  
“And the recklessness. I swear, one day you’ll get yourself killed because of it.”  
  
“And you’ll be there to revive me, right?”  
  
Erik shook his head with a smile. “Depends on what I have to sacrifice to the demons.”  
  
“Oh, maybe an arm. Or two.”  
  
“That works for me. Say, will you finally take off that ridiculous getup?”  
  
“You’re not going to like what you see.”  
  
Erik raised an eyebrow in confusion, then cold shock spread over his face. “You’re not burnt, are you? Charles...”  
  
“Rest assured.” Charles shook his head. “Just a few scratches. Not worth flipping over.” With that, he concentrated and removed any holograms and illusions. True to Hank’s predictions, he had removed the band-aids from his face before, revealing dark bruises and a few red cuts that he thought came from hitting the concrete when he fell after the first punch to the face.  
  
He could almost see how Erik’s face paled. The man stepped closer, eyes roaming over his wounds. Charles had to look away since he felt uncomfortable under this intense scrutiny. It didn’t help that he could hear the first pieces of metal shake and clank. “I know it looks bad. Nothing new, though. Are you done, Erik?”  
  
“Who did that?” he grumbled. The metallic rumble got stronger. “Charles, why didn’t you say anything? When did that happen?”  
  
A sigh. “This morning. Stryker. Don’t worry, the only thing truly injured is my pride.”  
  
“Hopefully his face too.”  
  
“I didn’t hit back.”  
  
Something creaked and broke with a shrill clang. Then Erik breathed deeply and collected himself. All the metal returned to its place in the workshop. Charles looked back and spotted a wrench snapped in half. Impressive, albeit impulsive.  
  
“I can’t wait for the day when his son manifests. I’m telling you, that boy is a future mutant,” Erik murmured.  
  
Charles laughed. Some persons were just known amongst mutants. “Your infamous mutant-radar. How precious.”  
  
“Now now, don’t get cocky. I know a mutant when I see one. And this one in front of me needs some band-aids, don’t you think so?”  
  
Charles groaned. Not again. But on the contrary, getting taken care of by Erik sounded tempting enough. “Do your worst,” he sighed. It didn’t take long before a metallic first aid kit flew over to them. Erik moved them to the visitor’s couch and sat them down.  
  
“Hold still,” he murmured and got to work. Charles closed his eyes as Erik applied some soothing balm on his wounds. He smiled as he felt warm fingers carefully moving over his face, as if handling something much too fragile. Charles had learned to be anything other than fragile a long time ago. Maybe that was why he liked Erik taking care of him. He could let go and just be.  
  
Far too soon Erik was done and carefully placed band-aids over his work. Charles sighed in contentment.  
  
“Enjoying this? I imagine it must hurt, having someone poke all your sore spots.” Erik sounded amused.  
  
“Give me a massage next, minion,” Charles chirped in response.  
  
Erik barked out a laugh. “Superhero, well, I take that back. Lay down, I’m gonna wash my hands first.”  
  
Charles hummed appreciatively. It had been too long since he had spent some time in Erik’s care and he was blatantly touch-starved. He still had papers to grade, but that could wait. If Erik was so eager to take care of Charles, who was he to stop him?  
  
While waiting, he ran over the night’s events. Riptide must be having a drink with the Brotherhood by now - the infamous X, forced to leave the battle because of an overheating car. Great.  
  
But Erik was right. While Charles didn’t like the Brotherhood very much, he respected the bunch for their ideals and knew just as well as his friend that they didn’t simply resort to dirty tricks just to prove their point. Was Riptide different? Or did they change their minds about their methods?  
  
Should he be careful about such challenges in the future? It seemed harmless enough. First there was gossip in his local pub - it always started with gossip. Then, a public announcement. No place, no time. Afterwards, the regular stuff: An encrypted message, sent straight to his business account, which was hidden enough in the depths of the web that no one would find out how to contact him without proving their worth first. Charles was still anxious that one day someone would bypass the barrier and find his and Hank’s lair.  
  
He got challenges, or as he liked to call them, invitations like that on a regular basis. But now that he thought back to it, something was clearly different this time. There was a whole other bite to the words than usually. The Brotherhood was noble in their wording, careful to keep their distance while still voicing their opinions.  
  
This time, it was a downright pissing contest. No real insults spilled, but rather egoistical boasting and the clear message that the posh boy X wouldn’t want to get a little bit of dust on his expensive sports car.  
  
“What are you pondering about?”  
  
Charles felt the couch dip under Erik’s weight and instantly felt safer. Strange, given that Erik was a simple mechanic, even if his mutation was a powerful one. He mused that it was his simple presence - dominant, yet collected and caring.  
  
“Nothing much. Just wondering when the Brotherhood got like that.”  
  
“They didn’t.” Erik began to work on Charles shoulders, eliciting a startled, yet pleased moan from the smaller man. “I’ll look into it. No way in hell did they hack your car. How even? No one from them who’s in the public eye has the capacity to do that.”  
  
“See, that’s the problem. What if they have acted this way in the shadows for a long time and just want to keep their reputation?”  
  
“No way. Now, Charles, I told you I’d look into it. You rest and enjoy me labouring for your sake here.”  
  
Charles hummed in agreement. Right now it was easy to turn his thoughts off and simply give the responsibility to Erik.  
  
Tomorrow he would meet up with a few contact persons and look into it. But for now he was content to drift off and get some rest himself. He felt Erik drape a blanket over him and it wasn’t long before he fell asleep completely, dreaming of sunshine and mutants peacefully walking among humans.

 

* * *

 


	2. Harmful Species

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing Raven, Alex and a new threat on the rise. And things don't really go according to Charles's plan, but when do they ever?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I changed up the playlist a bit - took out the 90s rock for better atmosphere. Sorry Erik! Just imagine some sick rock tunes playing in his workshop, that fact is not going to change. Also, I'm probably never going to get away from the VA-11 Hall-A Soundtrack. Shame on me.
> 
> Telepathic conversations are in italics.

* * *

  


Charles could feel her worried and angry thoughts before he even set foot into their apartment.

Raven sat on the sofa, combing through papers and not even looking up. But the twitching of her eye betrayed her.  
  
“Hello, Raven,” Charles greeted her carefully. “Look, my dear, I’m terribly sorry that I didn’t make it last night.”  
  
She didn’t look up. Her lips were pressed into a thin line. Composed, but still: Her hands were trembling where they flipped a page. “Where have you been?”  
  
“I was with Erik and immediately went to work this morning. No need to worry.” Charles let his bag down and sat in the armchair opposite from her. He smiled in reassurance, even though he knew what would come.  
  
Raven’s look wasn’t even surprised. Instead, she frowned. “Erik. Again. At night. Huh. Charles, stop trying to hide whatever’s going on between you two from me. It’s obvious by now.”  
  
“Raven, Erik and I are not dating, if that’s what you’re implying-“  
  
“Then why would you always stay the night instead of coming home?” She raised her voice slightly, but there was more disappointment than fury in her eyes.  
  
Charles struggled with words, but mere seconds after, she deflated. “I’m sick of you not telling me when you’re not making it home. With all those sentinels on the streets, it’s dangerous out late. Just so you know, normally you should be the one giving me the talk.”  
  
At that, Charles had to chuckle lightly. “The worry is mutual, I assure you that.”  
  
“At least _I_ send a message, _brother dear_.”  
  
“Raven, love, I just fell asleep and then I had to hurry to class the next morning. I’m truly sorry.” Charles spoke in a soft voice and with open eyes.  
  
Raven sighed and stood up, walking aimlessly through the living room, picking up papers here and there. “You’re not actually involved in anything dangerous, are you? Since you’re hanging out with Alex Summers.” She sorted the documents just to throw them on the sofa table. “I mean, Hank’s a good guy. Boring. Nerdy. But Alex? He seems like the type dumb enough to punch a sentinel.”  
  
“Alex is a good guy.” He ignored the comment about Hank. “I don’t have to support his shenanigans to enjoy a drink with him.” In actual fact there were numerous occasions were Alex had been assisting X on his escapades and vice versa. But his sweet yet overbearing sister didn’t have to know that.  
  
“Just be careful with him.” She plopped down on the sofa again and gave the documents a sideways glance, obviously in no mood to deal with them any further.  
  
Quickly roaming over the scattered papers with his eyes, Charles spotted numerous job rejections and unfinished applications.  
  
It was bad enough to be a mutant in today’s economy. It was worse when you dreamt big and had ambitions like Raven. No fashion label was willing to give her a try. Neither as a designer, nor as a model. Occasionally, they’d ask her if she was interested in lower positions, only to fire her when they found someone human for the job. Charles was sick of coming home to a moping sister and crossed out sketches of vogue dresses and dapper suits.  
  
“Have you tried that one boutique in sector 36? You know, the one with the vintage floppy hats?” An encouraging smile was on his lips. But she only smiled bitterly and shook her head.  
  
“They don’t hire people that are bad for business. Believe me, I’ve asked.”  
  
“Oh, come on.” Charles huffed. “Then we won’t shop there anymore, floppy hats or not.”  
  
“But I like their hats. Damnit, I like all their stuff! Can’t they at least hire me for the warehouse?”  
  
“I’m afraid you have to try elsewhere. How about you take a walk, get your mind off this and onto more positive things?”  
  
“You know, I’m sick of trying.”  
  
Raven threw her head back onto the sofa, stretching her arms high up into the air and sighed. Almost immediately, she jumped up and went to grab her scarf and coat. “You’ll come with me, right? Take a little stroll around the neighbourhood, just like you said.”  
  
“Of course.” A smile spread over his face and he let himself be helped into his coat by her.  
  
“Do you have your blocker?” She asked.  
  
Charles grimaced. “Almost forgotten.”  
  
After looking through some drawers and coat pockets, he found what he was looking for and fastened the black, clunky collar around his neck. “I look like a human pet, Raven. Couldn’t they have made it translucent?”  
  
“You know they made it more for easy recognition than helping mutants. Let’s go, the sun’s still up.”  
  


* * *

_[(Garoad - A City That Never Sleeps)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RFGxnX3cId4) _

  
  
The sun was just setting as they walked the alley down to the main street. Neo York was as colourful and bursting with life as ever and even after living here for years, Charles still had to marvel at the many skyscrapers like mountains around them and in the distance with countless advertisements on them that blurred together into a sea of bright specs of colour. Steel blue passenger buses flew through the sky and up above he could see the violet lights of the transport streets that were oh so familiar to him by now.  
  
“Come on, stop staring. It’s hardly anything to be gleeful about.”  
  
Charles laughed and linked arms with her. “Did I project again?”  
  
“Even with the collar. Don’t know how you manage to do that.”  
  
Charles shushed her with a smile. _We wouldn’t want anyone to know that those toys of theirs aren’t enough to stop me, now would we?_  
  
Raven just rolled her eyes. _Middle-level empath my ass. But fine, shovel your future grave._ Charles grinned in return.  
  
He adjusted the collar a bit more, then gave up on trying to make it more comfortable. Comfort or style was far from the reason he wore it (although some niche people that found other, more creative uses for them would argue otherwise). A bustling city like Neo York was hell for telepaths and empaths likewise.  
  
Charles didn’t wear his collar to give security to the people around him or obey the rules in high-security buildings; you’d have to wear one in those regardless. No, the constant barrage of thoughts and emotions against his mind was like being trapped in a hurricane with no guarantee that you’d stay on the ground. Being omega level, the collar couldn’t provide complete relief, but Charles found himself quite liking the hum of everyone’s thoughts around him. Besides, he had the slight suspicion that being completely powerless would frighten him to the core. He had heard of many mutants going rogue after losing their power and shivered just thinking about the implications for him.  
  
“Something’s not quite right today, Charles,” Raven murmured just as they entered the main street.  
  
His senses perked up. She was right. Even with the blocker, he could feel unrest among the masses of people moving around them. Was a storm coming? Did the shops close early? Or was there another pro-mutant protest happening?  
  
_Let’s move along. Maybe get something for dinner. I want to get home as soon as possible._ Charles pulled her to the far sidewalk to avoid the masses. A few people bumped into him on the way, but that was just everyday life in Neo York.  
  
They came to a stop at a busy intersection, waiting for the streetlight to go green. Raven was clinging to his arm more than usually, a suspicious and apprehensive look in her yellow eyes. Charles hoped nobody would notice them changing colour. She couldn’t control it when she was concentrating on other things.  
  
He took the time to look around more closely. Something about the people around them was different today. After letting his telepathy lightly scatter over the crowd, as much as the collar allowed, he knew why. There were less mutants than usually on the streets. Even less with physical mutations.  
  
“This traffic light is sure taking its sweet time,” Raven whispered. “Do you think it’s an announcement?”  
  
“Might be,” Charles replied curtly. His eyes were following a sentinel and two guard robots flying after a mutant with wings. When Raven followed his look, he quickly pressed her face to his chest so she wouldn’t see. He knew what was coming in the next seconds.  
  
Like predicted, the mutant got blown out of the sky and before he could even hit the ground and frighten the pedestrians, a bright blue laser beam from the sentinel completely vaporised him.  
  
Gasps echoed around him, more in surprise than sympathy. Charles had to blink a few times and compose himself. This sudden death all around him still took some time getting used to. Even worse was the guilt. What if he could have pulled the strings a bit differently, what if he had taken care of that mutant before officials even took notice of him?  
  
“Charles, I’m old enough to watch,” Raven huffed, but stayed in her position. He hugged her even tighter, and she breathed out. “Is it over?”  
  
“Indeed it is.”  
  
They separated. She didn’t link arms with him again. “Damn streetlight,” she tried to change the topic. Charles let her. “I think it’s a public announcement. Something’s going on.”  
  
As if on cue, all the traffic lights turned red and slowly, the stream of vehicles came to a hold. The pair looked expectantly up to the giant holograms displayed in front of the skyscrapers. One by one, they changed from advertisements and TV programs to the letters PSA. Speakers all around them blared the date, then the message, all in a synthetic, clean female voice.  
  
_“Attention all mutant citizens. Tomorrow between 8am and 8pm, a mutant review program will be held. Mutants partaking, please go to a local institution of your choice.”_  
  
Surprised gasps echoed through the crowd. The holograms changed to the date. Charles could only stare at it in shock. This wasn’t scheduled at all. Normally, the mutant populace got yearly messages telling the exact date for the four reviews a year.  
  
“This program isn’t one of the quarterly programs and will be held separately. The need for one arose due to recent radical mutant activity. Those affected by the program will receive a message via tracker soon. We expect utmost cooperation. Thank you for your attention. This has been a PSA.”  
  
The holograms depicting the date stayed. The traffic light went green and Charles forced himself out of his worries. For now he had to follow the flow and not cause unwanted attention. He could still plan for this unwanted change of course when he was behind closed doors, with no sentinels ready to vaporise him at the nearest chance.  
  
After taking a few steps, he noticed Raven was not coming. Quickly walking back, he took the seemingly frozen girl by the hand. “Raven, come on, we need to go. Don’t think about it for now.”  
  
She stared at him with wide eyes and didn’t move. “They’ll finally come for me. I know it.” Her smooth, fair skin gave way to rippling scales and her blonde locks became red at the hairline. She didn’t seem to notice the transformation.  
  
“They won’t. Calm your mind, Raven, calm down. Let’s go home.”  
  
When she didn’t react, he pulled her back the way they came from, all the while keeping her close and her head down. She let herself be dragged along. Charles hoped she wouldn’t see the many eyes on them - on her, or the guard robot that had begun discreetly trailing them. Mutant breakdowns weren’t uncommon and with fast mutant recognition, it was no wonder that they expected something to happen. Charles swallowed in fear and kept her head down.

 

* * *

_[(Arcis - Harmful Species)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cZjQYRhsFFc) _

  
  
When they finally made it back to their flat, Raven was completely in her natural form. The guard robot stopped just a few meters outside the lobby, then turned around and went away. Charles watched it resentfully, then entered the elevator with Raven.  
  
“Charles,” he heard Raven speak up as soon as the doors closed and the elevator began moving upwards. Her voice was low and laced with fear. “Look.” She held her palm out to him. There was a holographic message right in her hand. Small, but it was there. Not to overlook.  
  
“They want to review you again. Raven, we went over this. You’re not dangerous.” _Not if you lie and pretend to be unable to shapeshift fully. Including fingerprints. You know the drill._  
  
Raven looked at him with confusion and just the tiniest sliver of anger. “Someday they will come for me. And maybe that ‘someday’ is tomorrow.” _Not all of us can keep up a charade forever. Speaking of which, what’s your tracker up to?_  
  
Ignoring the ill comment, Charles pushed his sleeve back and checked on the tiny device in his arm. Even though he had manipulated the device many times, he still made sure that it worked accordingly as to not cause suspicion. But nothing was displayed. He tapped it gently. Still nothing. He was off the hook - for now.  
  
“Of course the good professor doesn’t have to be reviewed. You know, brother dear, sometimes I wish to be you. Or for you to be me.” There was no malicious intent in her voice, just sadness.  
  
“Raven, you’re perfect just the way you are.” He commented.  
  
“Spare me the talk. I mean, look at me. I’m blue, scaly and ugly.”  
  
“Many people are blue and scaly nowadays, Raven.”  
  
“Then why don’t I see them on the streets?”  
  
Charles sighed. The elevator came to a hold slowly. It always made him slightly nauseous. “We both know the answer to that.”  
  
“Which makes you even more of a hypocrite.” She stepped out with him, taking fast and energetic steps towards their flat.  
  
“Please don’t call me that.” Charles watched her one hand ripple back to normal human skin as she used the fingerprint lock. She immediately changed it back as soon as she was able to step inside.  
  
“You have it easy, dear brother,” she spat out as she threw her coat over the rack and kicked her boots off. “You look normal. Not like one of us. You’ll never know how fucking privileged you are!”  
  
“Raven, I don’t tolerate such talking from you,” he furrowed his brows and cleaned up the mess she left in the doorway.  
  
The girl was fuming by now. “Don’t even think for a second that you can tell me what you tolerate! It’s not about you, Charles. No, fuck that, it’s always about you!” Her hands shook. She needed an outlet for all the frustration she had built up. Charles knew screaming at him wasn’t enough. Soon the furniture would get a few kicks and punches if he weren’t to intervene.  
  
“I’m sorry that you see things that way, but I can assure you-“  
  
“Fuck your sorrys. They don’t make me any less abnormal! We are the harmful species, Charles, I’m the scum of the nation!”  
  
“Would you let me finish?” He felt annoyance seeping into his tone and quickly composed himself. Charles had long learnt that fights with Raven always ended ugly and led to nowhere.  
  
He clipped off his collar instead. Raven followed his movements with glaring yellow eyes. “Don’t you dare-”  
  
_Go to your room and calm down._  
  
A few misplaced steps and suddenly she stood up straight, not saying anything as she walked to her room and closed the door soundlessly.  
  
Charles let out a sigh. He wasn’t even surprised that it came that far again. Raven was frightened to the core, of course she needed an outlet for that. It was probably even worse with the review being so sudden and out of pattern. Maybe they were stricter with their tests this time. Would Raven be able to fully pretend this time?  
  
Charles couldn’t be sure of it. He never was sure of it. There was only one solution to keep Raven out of danger, one that he had used many times in the past, even if she didn’t like it.  
  
Telepathy was the best gift for making sure people could lie about themselves with a straight face, blissfully unaware that they weren’t even telling the truth.  
  
Raven would thank him later, he reasoned with himself. She could stay. She wouldn’t be deported like so many others. No correction facility or experimentation lab would ever harm her as long as he could prevent it.  
  
With that thought in mind, he put his fingers to his temple, concentrated and went after Raven.  
  


* * *

[ _(HEALTH - Blue Monday)_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cYtGJGp-9hA)

  
  
Charles watched his companion for the night down his second drink in frustration. The blond man let the glass audibly clank on the counter as he set it down.  
  
“Take it easy, chap. The night is still young.” He clapped the frustrated man once, twice on the shoulder, raised his glass and gave him a small smile. “Cheers, Alex. At least we can say we tried.”  
  
Alex sighed and watched his friend take the shot. “It’s frustrating, Charles. Anything could be more productive than moping around in a club, waiting for people tossing mere breadcrumbs at us.”  
  
Alex was right. This was going absolutely nowhere. The first two informants had nothing on the Brotherhood. And judging by the time, the third wasn’t even going to show up. He didn’t blame them. With the announcement of a sudden mutant review, everyone was wary tonight. Charles wouldn’t have dared going to a mutant club if he didn’t have his disguise.  
  
He hated waiting for acquaintances in clubs. The drinks were bad, the air was hazy with all the smoke and worst of it all, the close proximity to other club-goers made it impossible to shield against the sea of incoherent thoughts washing against his mind. Alcohol was a hell of a drug when you’re a telepath - for other’s thoughts as for your own shielding.  
  
Two informants had already been there. Mutants that Charles - or rather, X - had established good and valuable connections with over time. They were frightened in their minds. Afraid that tomorrow’s review would be their last. Pitying them, Charles had soothed their fear a little bit. He knew most of them loosely since years. It would be a shame if one of them came to harm.  
  
But even with the guarantee that his people wouldn’t betray him or run their mouths, he had to remain anonymous. Who knew how many mics and cameras they or the club were clipped with?  
  
So the procedure was as follows: Charles would scan the crowd telepathically to find his person, tell them to sit next to them and no one would acknowledge each other as both had their respective drinks and a lengthy conversation in their heads.  
  
Additionally, he had to keep up the illusion so that no one would recognise him and no facial or mutant scanner would match his data together. A different look this time: Neither X, nor Charles Xavier, but a typical nameless black-haired office guy who looked like he injected himself a dosage of caffeine every morning. Charles detested looking like that, but it was effective enough. No one even spared him a glance when he went out. A normal human through and through. His acquaintances simply thought he was a shapeshifter.  
  
And Alex, well. Alex was just Alex. Known as ‘Havok’ in mutant circles, the young man was involved in far more underground activities than was safe for a man with a mutation classified as ‘highly dangerous’.  
  
Ever since Charles had freed him from an underground prison and erased all traces of him ever being held captive, Alex and him were close, maybe too close for Raven’s liking. The young man let out no chance of taking a jab at the government, risking himself in the process, but never taking it far enough to be classified as more than a weak threat. He knew he was playing with fire, and Charles admired him for managing to openly resist yet being intelligent enough to always slip through the cracks when things threatened to get ugly.  
  
“I’ll look into it some more at home. Now, tell me, how’s Scott doing? Adjusting to the glasses?” Charles asked.  
  
Alex used the straw to poke around in his drink. “Well, right as he was adjusting to seeing again, he’s got the invitation to their little dinner party tomorrow. This country is fucked, I’m telling you, Charles.”  
  
“They won’t take him, Alex,” Charles tried to reassure him. The familiarity of the situation crept up on him. “You know, my sister has to go too. She’s been fussing about it the whole afternoon.” _I had to intervene. No harm in making her lie tomorrow._  
  
The blond raised an eyebrow. “Well, if it works for her.” _Scott’s not good. Can’t hide that your eyes shoot lasers._  
  
“And you? Did you get one?” _What with laser beams and all._  
  
“No.” _Surprisingly. I’m waiting for the big crash. This city hates me. Maybe that’s why they’re only bringing in Scott._  
  
_Because they know the more dangerous brother would get him out of anything._ Charles kept completely silent, not letting his features betray their silent conversation.  
  
Alex was the same, but he was occasionally stealing glances at him to see his reactions. _I’m thinking it’s really X they’re after._  
  
_Can’t blame them. So you’re already planning on teaming up with the most wanted vigilante in the city?_ A small smirk slipped Charles.  
  
_I know he wouldn’t let me go alone if things came down to that._  
  
Charles waved at the bar robot and ordered another drink for Alex, fondness on his face.  
  
“I’m not saying no to free shit, but you know you don’t have to do that,” Alex grinned. Charles shrugged. _I’ve put way too much money on my alias credit card. No harm in spending it._  
  
_You really think of everything, do you?_  
  
_One slip-up and I’ll be surrounded by sentries._  
  
_Here’s a toast to you not getting toasted._ Alex raised his glass. “Cheers.”  
  
Charles mirrored him, until he suddenly felt a familiar presence. He took a long sip from his drink, then concentrated on his mind and the other’s.  
  
Contrary to his expectations, it was Darwin. He had expected someone else since Darwin had told him he needed to lie low and wouldn’t make it.  
  
He quite liked the mutant. He was trustworthy, courageous and had the most fascinating mutation: Adaptation for survival. He had indeed survived quite a few encounters with sentinels and the community adored him for that.  
  
_Over here._ Charles gave the mutant gentle nudges into the right direction and made the man sitting next to him leave. Soon, he could feel someone sinking into the seat and see him ordering a light beverage. Charles immediately recognised the card as fake. Darwin must really be on their list by now.  
  
_I’m gonna make it quick,_ Darwin thought at him, his inner voice unusually serious.  
  
_I didn’t expect you, my dear friend. To what do I owe the honour of this visit?_  
  
_Things are changing, Charles. The Brotherhood’s got a new member and he’s taking the whole group into some unpleasant direction._  
  
Before he could even react to that, Charles heard another, excited voice in his head. _Can you tell Armando I said hi? Haven’t seen him in long!_  
  
_Alex, not now. It seems we’ve got a problem on our hands. I’ll tell you later._ Charles could feel the man next to him deflate a little and felt pity. Alex and Armando were good friends and always bordering on the edge of something more. If it weren’t for the dangerous involvement of the two, they could spend much more time together and fully explore that connection.  
  
_Alright. At least tell him I’m glad he’s okay._ Alex went silent in Charles head, so he concentrated on the other man again. Darwin was agitated with anxiety and Charles soothed him before speaking to him again.  
  
_Alex is glad you’re here and alright. Now, Darwin, can you tell me who exactly we’re dealing with here?_  
  
_I’m glad to see him too. And I’m afraid I don’t have much information regarding his identity. It’s a man for sure, an older one. He’s not from around here._  
  
_Whatever he’s planning, it makes sense that he’s choosing the center of technical evolution for that._  
  
_He’s planning the nuclear apocalypse, Charles. Don’t laugh. People say they know he’s capable of it._  
  
Charles had to empty his drink. He needed to feel the burn in his throat right now. Darwin didn’t exaggerate when it came to threats.  
  
_It’s his mutation, isn’t it? He’s likely an omega the government doesn’t know of yet._ A mutant powerful enough to control nuclear warfare was a real threat to everyone, mutant and human alike.  
  
_They will know him soon enough if he’s following through with his promises._  
  
_Tell me, my friend, how did you acquire all this information and I didn’t even get a hint of all of it?_  
  
_As celebrated as you are, the people with the most connections don’t trust you. To them, you’re too peaceful and more of a mockup Robin Hood than an actual solution._  
  
_Not the first time I hear that._  
  
After that, they kept silent as Charles worked through the information. It took a long while until he finally looked up from his drink and reached out to Darwin again.  
  
_I have to thank you profoundly for the information, Darwin. May your journey home be a safe one. If not, you know how to reach me._  
  
_I hope you can get this under control. I’ll disappear off the radar for a while._  
  
_Good luck, my friend._  
  
Charles stood up from his stool and put on his coat. “Let’s go, Alex. I’ve got much work to do.”  
  
“Thinking was successful?” Alex grinned at him and emptied his drink.  
  
“Very much so.”  
  
Charles knew that as soon as he got home, worry would take the best of him and he’d have the first of many sleepless nights. The mutant reviewing was additional baggage. Were those two events maybe connected? It would be a likely guess that the Brotherhood’s shift in methods alarmed the government.  
  
Speaking of which, he had to tell Erik as soon as possible. While Erik was not actually involved in anything, he had the right connections and could maybe help. And Charles was eager to finally show him that he was right and the Brotherhood had truly shifted to a dangerous threat.  
  
And maybe he just needed a shoulder to lean on and a place where he could lay down the burden of a whole city for just a little while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As much as I love New Order's Blue Monday to bits and pieces, this version seemed perfect for the club scene. 
> 
> More Cherik and more car stuff in the next chapter! I'm keeping you waiting for now, haha. And happy New Year's!


End file.
